Her phone rang, and she knew it was Day. She sent him to voicemail and then flagged down the first cab she saw. She just wanted to go home and forget the entire situation with Day had ever happened.
She felt sick; a cocktail of embarrassment and desperation made her feel unworthy. She knew it was a possibility that she could be overreacting. She knew that it could be her own guilt and disgrace putting her in her feelings about things, but onething her mother had taught her was that your feelings were your feelings…they weren’t right or wrong…they just were.
She was on the brink of sobs, and she hated it. Her spirit was crushed, and she couldn’t comprehend why. Perhaps it was her history with watching her mother lease her pussy out for bill money. Maybe even her own experiences with men discounting her worth. It could possibly be the fact that she was all out of options. She didn’t know, but this situation just made her feel low.
I like him, and he doesn’t even see me for real.
“Miss, is there a problem with Mr. Night’s room?”
The concierge caught her off guard, and she cleared her throat, dabbing fingers to her face. She didn’t want to cause a scene.
The fact that the concierge knew what room she was staying in made her feel like Day had a carousel of women that he brought here. Like the staff helped prep for his visits with paid pussy.
“The room is fine. Thank you. I just need to leave.”
“Well, Mr. Night has asked me to ask you to please return to the room. He has a very special dinner planned, and between you and me, he’s pulled a lot of strings to make this happen in very little time. We weren’t expecting him today, but we’ve tried our best to accommodate his requests.”
“What requests?” Stassi asked.
“If you would allow me to escort you to our spa, I will show you,” he said. The elderly gentleman had a presence like a grandfather. He was the mediator to her emotions, and she felt like she was in trusting hands as he walked her across the lobby. He held open the door for her, and the scent of eucalyptus greeted her.
“Anastassia?” The woman behind the desk greeted.
Stassi smiled unsurely. “Yes.”
“We’ve curated an amazing experience for you today. Before we get started, we just need you to fill out these forms of yourpreferences of pressure for your massage and whether you might have any allergies.” Stassi was clueless.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t even aware I would be getting spa services. What all am I signed up for?” She asked.
“We’ve canceled all our appointments for the rest of the day to accommodate you and Mr. Night. We’ve been texting back and forth with him for the past hour so we wouldn’t ruin the surprise,” the concierge said, smiling.
So that’s who he was texting.
She hated that she couldn’t trust her own emotions. She was up and down. She was trusting and doubtful. She was aroused and ashamed. Expensive and cheap. Her life had become an oxymoron.
“Here is your key to your locker. Everythng you need is inside. Get changed, and then your master masseuse will come for you shortly. You can enjoy the women’s lounge until then.”
Stassi felt the urge to call Day to apologize. She had assumed the worst, and although he was super arrogant, she had a feeling that her conscience was more to blame than his intentions. Her stubbornness stopped her from admitting her wrongs, however. If he were willing to sweep it under the rug, so would she. She undressed and wrapped her body in the plush robe and slippers they provided.
Everything was top-notch and Stassi had to close her eyes and shake her hands to just push the anxiety from her body. Shit hadn’t been right since she had lost her job. This treatment, this luxury, was exactly what she needed. Even if she had to cash in her coochie coupon afterward in order to afford it.
“Stassi?”
The masseuse entered the locker room, and Stassi nodded before following her into the treatment room.
“You can get undressed and get comfortable under the covers. Lie face down. I’m going to step out until you getsituated. You marked R&B on your music preference sheet, so we’ll play that very low while you receive your treatment.”
The woman walked out of the room, and Stassi ditched the robe then climbed under the heated blanket.
Essential scents of lavender pulled a heavy sigh from her lips. She was carrying a lot, but for the next 90 minutes, she would let it all go. She positioned her body face down, and the creak of the door announced the masseuse’s return.
With her eyes closed, it felt like SiR was singing to her.
Doesn’t this feel like this could be real life, if we had something to proooveee
Stassi tensed when she felt the finger start at her ankle and trail up the back of her leg, down the valley of the dip in her back, and up her spine. His cologne ruined the mystery. She knew exactly who was in the room with her.
“I ain’t mean to offend,” he said. Goddamn deep-ass voice made her body come alive like he had a remote start to her desire. His finger finally made it to the skin of her upper back, then her neck, where he rubbed.
